Welcome to the BAU, Penelope Garcia
by warehouseluver13
Summary: What's up my fine furry friends? Penelope Garcia here! If you're interested in knowing the untold story behind the start of my friendship with my Sculpted God of Chocolate Thunder, (aka Derek Morgan), look no further than this story! Click on this fic! Come on, I know you want to! Garcia out!
1. Hacker Goddess, Turned FBI Analyst

_**I was watching my Season 3 of Criminal minds, and I got inspired to write a fanfic that shows Penelope Garcia's life before the BAU... please read, REVIEW and enjoy!**_

_**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Criminal Minds... CBS does.**_

**_(The episode that inspired me was Season 3 episode 19 Tabula Rasa)_**

**_Oh, and Garcia's thoughts are in italics._**

_**-warehouseluver13**_

* * *

**April 20, 2004…**

I woke up to my alarm clock annoyingly buzzing at 7 am just like I usually do. I sat up and yawned. I did my daily morning stretch, making sure all my bones and muscles unlocked themselves from the result of yesterday's activities. I snatched my iPod from its place on the floor and walked towards my small bathroom to freshen up for the day. 25 minutes later, I finished straightening my hair and applying my makeup. I was about to make my morning cup of Joe, when I heard a knock on my door.

"Coming!" I yelled.

As I made my way to the door, the mysterious, impatient person knocked once again.

"Yes?" I asked, as I opened the door.

There were two middle-aged men standing in the doorway. They both wore black suits with matching black sunglasses. Great. The last thing I need are the men in black. (aka, FBI agents)

"Ms. Penelope Garcia, I'm SSA Jackson Winchester, and this is my partner SSA Matthew Summers," said the man as he and his partner flashed their badges," we need you to come with us,"

I hesitated, wondering what the FBI would want with a small town hacker myself.

"Am I being arrested?" I inquired.

"No," SSA Winchester replied.

"Then why should I come with you?"

"Ma'am, we've been instructed to bring you back to the Quantico field office, no matter the cost. I would prefer not to arrest you for cyber terrorism if I don't have to," the SSA countered.

I absentmindedly shivered and let out a sigh of defeat. If the FBI arrested me, I'm pretty sure the CIA would swoop in, only to force the FBI to release me into their custody, and I would spend the rest of my days being a CIA asset or imprisoned a jail cell God-only- knows-where. The choice to willingly go with the FBI instantly became clear.

"Can I at least grab a cup of coffee before we leave?"

The agents nodded in agreement.

* * *

SSA Winchester pulled the federal black SUV up in front of the Quantico field office, and SSA Summers exited the vehicle, only to open my door. He said that he was to escort me into the building while his partner parked the car. I got out of the SUV, and followed SSA Summers into the FBI field office.

After receiving a visitor's pass, we took the elevator to the top floor of the building, and I could only guess that the Section Chief of the FBI Quantico field office wanted to talk to me.

_This better not be about the power outage that caused the whole state of Virginia to not have power for a month. That was just an accident on my part- and playing with the power grid wasn't even a challenge. I wasn't looking to intentionally hurt anyone._ I thought as the FBI agent escorted me to a pair of double doors at the end of the hallway.

* * *

The FBI agent opened one of the doors, and silently gestured me to walk through first. I gave a small nod to the agent, and stepped into the office, which had a breathtaking view of the city below.

"Ma'am, I have brought Ms. Penelope Garcia here as you have ordered," said SSA Summers.

"Thank you special agent Summers. Please wait outside my office until I finish talking with Ms. Garcia here," said the FBI Section Chief, spinning her fancy leather chair around to face us.

"Yes ma'am,"

And with that, I was left alone in the room with the Section Chief, who looked to be in her late forties.

"I apologize for any inconveniences, Ms. Garcia. I'm Section Chief Erin Strauss. Please, sit. There is much to talk about," said the cryptic woman.

Eying the woman who looked old enough to be my mother, I slowly sat in one of the two chairs in front of her desk.

The section chief cleared her throat before she pulled out a personnel file, and read it aloud. "Penelope Holly Garcia, only child, born to parents Walter and Sally Garcia in July of 1972 at San Francisco Memorial Hospital. You lost your parents in a car accident at the age of 18. After their passing, you dropped out of Caltech and went underground. However, you continued to teach yourself computer coding. Two years ago, you moved to your current apartment in Quantico... It is remarkable how fast you made a reputation in the world of hacking, Ms. Garcia. Which is why you are here today. I would like to offer you a job as a technical analysist here at the FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit,"

"Do I have a choice?" I asked.

The section chief raised an eyebrow at me, suggesting that I give her a different answer.

"I mean... thank you for the job offer, ma'am. Do I need to apply for it?" I revised my answer.

The section chief laughed. "If you drop off your resume later this afternoon, I can pull some strings on my end, and you can start tomorrow,"

I widened my eyes, which were filled to the brim in surprise. "Thank you ma'am!"

The section chief laughed once again. "After all, you are the best in your field, aren't you?"

"Yes ma'am! My resume will be on your desk by time you get back from your meeting with the President," I said.

"Ms. Garcia, I'm only the section chief for the Quantico field office. I'm not the one who meets with the President,"

I nervously laughed, as I stood up to make my way to the door. "I knew that. Thanks again for this job opportunity,"

"It's more like a get out of..." I heard Section Chief Strauss mutter, before she caught herself, "Have a good day, Ms. Garcia! I am expecting to see that resume really soon!"

"I know ma'am. Thank you ma'am," I replied graciously, before closing her office door.

I looked to my right, and noticed my escort patiently waiting on a small couch conveniently placed next to the office doors.

I smiled in an attempt to break the awkward silence.

"I take it that you do this a lot?" I asked.

"You have no idea," SSA Summers remarked.

* * *

As soon as the nice federal agents dropped me off in front of my apartment building, I raced up the nearby staircase to head back to my apartment. Outside of my apartment door, I fumbled for the keys. It took me a few minutes to jam the right key into the lock. I raced over to my worn out couch and grabbed my laptop from its resting place to print out my resume. With a few clicks, I quickly brought up my resume on the screen. Wasting no time, I hit the print button in the upper left hand corner of the document. I snagged my resume off the printer, which I printed on pink paper, (one of my favorite colors) I grabbed my car keys, and hastily locked my apartment door. I plan to drop my resume off immediately at the Quantico FBI field office, but city traffic can be unpredictable.

* * *

After being miserably stuck in traffic for over an hour, I managed to pull into parking lot of the FBI field office, and luckily found a decent spot in the parking garage. I stopped on the main floor once again to get a visitor's pass to see the section chief. I pressed the up button on the elevator panel, and patiently waited for the elevator to land on my floor. I was about to get in the empty elevator, when a voice called out.

"Hey! You there! Can you hold the elevator?"

I turned around to see who exactly was asking, and I saw an African American man in his early thirties, trying to weave a path to the elevator. Like all of the federal agents in this building, he was wearing a standard issue black business suit with a tie roped around his neck. Also, the reason why I probably held the elevator is that I couldn't stop staring at him. It was like he was sculpted from clay, and my eyes couldn't seem to process the fact that he was a real human being.

"Thanks," he said.

The young FBI agent was about to enter the elevator when he paused and turned around to look at me. He raised an eyebrow, and a smirk crept onto his face. "After you," he insisted.

I blinked twice, snapping back into reality, and I noticed that the young agent was still standing there, now holding the elevator for me. I felt my face burning as I blushed with embarrassment. With a small polite nod, I stepped into the elevator, and the young FBI agent followed me in. He pressed the button for floor six, while I pressed the button for floor twelve.

"Floor twelve huh? Are you going to see Strauss?" He asked.

"Yup," I managed to reply.

"Uh-huh. I take it you are applying for the technical analyst position available in the BAU?"

"That's the job," I said.

The elevator dings, as it finally settles on his floor.

"My name is Derek Morgan. I'm a profiler who works out of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, commonly known as BAU for short. What's your name?"

_Gosh, I feel like I am in kindergarten, and the cutest boy in the class is asking for my name._

"My name is Penelope Garcia," I replied.

"Penelope Garcia- a beautiful name, for a beautiful lady. Well Garcia, welcome to the FBI and good luck with your job interview. I hope you get the position, so we can get to know each other better," He smiled and winked at me as he got off on his floor. I saw him return to his desk in the bullpen, before the elevator doors automatically closed.

_Boy, Derek Morgan knows how to make a girl feel good about herself._

My thoughts were interrupted by the dinging of the elevator, letting me know that I finally arrived on the Section Chief's floor. As the doors opened, I let out a long sigh. As I walked towards Section Chief Strauss' office I became increasingly nervous, but I fought those feelings down. My gut was telling me that my future was here at the FBI, serving as a technical analyst for the BAU. I chose to believe in my gut, not because of Derek Morgan, but because I believe I can make a difference in the world by putting my hacking skills to good use, which may not only have the abilities to saves lives, but to serve justice to those who need it.

* * *

**_Garcia is meeting Derek earlier than usual, but don't worry, I have big plans for the next chapter._**

**_DON'T FORGET TO TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! Positive and Constructive reviews are well appreciated!_**

**_-warehouseluver13 _**

**_A/N: Thank you buddyboots &amp; Nimue68 for pointing out a few errors, because without you guys, I wouldn't have spell checked and edited for spelling mishaps._**


	2. Erin Strauss, On One of Her Good Days

_**For the next couple of days, I'm going to be pretty swamped with homework, but I decided that I had to post chapter 2 before getting lost in the land of never ending homework assignments. Please read, review &amp; enjoy!**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds.**_

_**-warehouseluver13**_

* * *

**_For those who forgot what happened in chapter one..._**

_My thoughts were interrupted by the dinging of the elevator, letting me know that I finally arrived on the Section Chief's floor. As the doors opened, I let out a long sigh. As I walked towards Section Chief Strauss' office I became increasingly nervous, but I fought those feelings down. My gut was telling me that my future was here at the FBI, serving as a technical analyst for the BAU. I choose to believe in my gut, not because of Derek Morgan, because I believe I can make a difference in the world by putting my hacking skills to good use, which may not only have the abilities to saves lives, but to serve justice to those who need it._

* * *

I softly knocked on the glazed dark brown oak door, and I heard a voice from inside giving me permission to enter. With one last sigh to calm my nerves, I opened the door and entered Strauss' office. The Section Chief was sitting behind her desk finishing up a phone call, and she acknowledged my presence with a wave of her hand.

"Aaron, all I am saying is the least that you can do is give this girl a chance. Besides, you need a technician, and did you forget who exactly is the section chief is around here? That's what I thought. She will start tomorrow, so if you need any technical assistance, it's going to have to wait. Good-bye Aaron,"

Section Chief Strauss looked like she was about to slam the phone back into its cradle, but instead she gently returned it to its resting place.

"Sorry about that Ms. Garcia. I was just finishing up your arrangements for your first day tomorrow. I hate it when my agents question my authority,"

I almost had forgotten the manila folder I was holding in my hand that contained my resume, until Section Chief Strauss reminded me exactly why I was standing in her office.

"I take it that's your resume that you're holding?" The Section Chief asked.

I quickly glanced down at the forgotten folder, and I tried to contain my embarrassment.

"What- oh, yes, ma'am, yes, this is my resume," I said, as held out the folder in her direction.

Section Chief Strauss reached across her desk and grabbed the folder out of my extended hand. She quickly skimmed through my resume, nodding approvingly as she read some of my past achievements. She shut the folder and looked at me. I shivered, because it felt like she was looking directly into my soul.

"I am very certain that you have all the required qualifications for the analyst job, and I also love the color of your resume," she said, as she held up one of the pink papers my resume was on.

"I'm sorry ma'am, I could reprint my resume if-," I started.

The Section Chief laughed. "No need to worry Ms. Garcia, I don't mind. So are you up for starting tomorrow?" She inquired.

"Yes ma'am! It would be an honor," I graciously accepted.

"Good. Now, if you would follow me, you need to get your picture taken for your FBI ID. You also need to get fingerprinted, so your prints can be uploaded to the federal database. It is a requirement for all government workers,"

"Yes ma'am," I replied.

* * *

I followed the Section Chief into the elevator, and she pressed the button to get to the lobby of the field office. It was a shorter elevator ride than before. As soon as the doors opened, she started walking over the reception desk, and I was amazed at how the busy agents in the lobby didn't step a foot in her path as she walked over to the visitor's circulation desk. She looked back, and noticed I was still standing by the elevators. I saw that she was waving at me in an attempt to have me join her at the circulation desk. I struggled against the current of agents, but finally managed to make it to where Section Chief Strauss was standing.

She smiled. "Don't worry, soon you'll be an expert at field office traffic,"

"Thank you ma'am," I managed to reply.

At the moment, the secretary at the circulation desk was nowhere to be seen, but a tall, stocky young man just returned to dump a collection of FBI visitor passes into a nearby bin. Section Chief Strauss noticed the employee and called out to him.

"Steve! I need you to do a photo ID and fingerprints for Ms. Garcia. Her first day is tomorrow, and I don't want to worry about any complications,"

The young man looked up from the pile of FBI passes he was counting, and was taken aback at the presence of the Section Chief standing in front of the circulation desk.

"Yes ma'am. Right this way, miss," said Steve. He lifted a section of the countertop that was part of the desk.

As I started following Steve to a door leading to the back room, Section Chief Strauss said her good-byes.

"Good-bye Ms. Garcia! If you have any questions tomorrow, feel free to stop by my office anytime! I wish you the best of luck!"

Before I even had the chance to reply, she was already half way across the lobby, heading towards the elevators.

* * *

I followed Steve into the small back room of the circulation desk, and noticed a table chockfull of papers to my left, as well as a camera on a tripod facing a white backdrop and a fingerprint station on my right.

"The paperwork that the FBI wants to add to your personnel file is on that table. Take one of each form. If you hurry, we can move on and take your photo ID as well as adding your fingerprints to the federal database. I'll be back in twenty minutes," said Steve.

I looked at the horror of papers that covered the entire table. "There are so many of them… where do I start?" I asked.

Steve shrugged. "That's why we switched to color coding the important forms last year... but if I were you, I would start with the green one- that's the emergency contacts form,"

I groaned at the amount of bureaucratic red tape I'm going to have to cut through before I can even obtain my official federal ID.

"Well, I guess I better get started,"

* * *

It took me forty minutes to finish filling out all the required paperwork. I gave the stack of papers to Steve, who in return, stamped and signed off in the marked spaces for a FBI employee to fill in.

"Let's get your prints into the federal database first, then you can get your photo ID," said Steve.

"Whatever you say Steve," I remarked.

I had to use the fingerprint ink and mark my prints in the required sections of yet another piece of paperwork. I managed to not smudge them the first time around, which I guess is good. I walked over to the white backdrop and faced the camera. Before Steve took my picture, I quickly fixed my hair. He snapped my picture, and a few minutes later, I was holding my "fresh off the press" federal ID. I held onto the piece of plastic as if it was King Arthur's Holy Grail. I was barely listening to Steve, who was talking about the federal ID policy.

"Anyone who has a federal ID must get a new one every five years, for security purposes only. Do you understand, Ms. Garcia?" Steve asked.

"Hmm?" I mused.

"I said-"

"Okay, okay, yes I understand Steve," I replied.

"Okay Ms. Garcia, you are free to go,"

"Good, because I definitely need to go shopping, if I am going to play in the big leagues with sharp-looking, black business suit/ pant suit wearing feds… no offense Steve," I said.

"None taken," he replied.

* * *

_**So, what do you think? Did this chapter live up to your expectations? If not, I apologize for not meeting them. Also, Strauss on the phone butting heads with Hotch? That's nothing new... I think. Anyways, I am always open to your thoughts, whether they are positive or negative, so please feel free to do so. Any kind of review makes me happy. However, stay tuned for chapter three, where the REAL profiling action really starts... and Garcia might even meet Reid next.**_

_**-warehouseluver13**_


	3. A Familiar Face, I think

_**OMG. Please don't hate me. I know it's been a while, but my school year is coming to a close, and my end of the year projects have been keeping me busy. Anyways, here's chapter three, so please read, review &amp; enjoy! Again, I'm sorry for the wait!**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds, or any characters.**_

_**-warehouseluver13**_

* * *

**Previously...**

_"Okay Ms. Garcia, you are free to go,"_

_"Good, because I definitely need to go shopping, if I am going to play in the big leagues with sharp-looking, black business suit/ pant suit wearing feds… no offense Steve," I said._

_"None taken," he replied._

* * *

When I agreed with Strauss to take the analyst job at the field office, I had no idea that I would be consumed with boredom. I thought that I might be able to utilize my powers of technology to help catch bad guys, make the world a better place, and bring closure to victims' families, but instead I have been buried under piles and piles of paperwork which have been requested to be filed away by yours truly. However, when I'm doing my reluctant task in the field office, it gives me the chance to eavesdrop on agents talking about recent cases. It was my third day at the office and I was filing paperwork away as usual, when I caught wind of the Blue Ridge Strangler case. The BAU team assigned to the case was having trouble coming up with a profile to identify the unsub (unknown subject) because their suspect pool was too big. I was eager to offer my services to the team assigned to the case, in an effort to ditch my infinite piles of paperwork that still needed to be filed away, so I came up with a plan. I knew the general area the team was working in, so I would spend my afternoon in the area slowly filing away papers, and hope that at least someone on the team would notice me. Two hours later, when I came back with another stack of papers to file, an agent on the Blue Ridge Strangler case finally noticed my presence.

"Excuse me Gomez," the husky voice called out.

I've been working on this floor for less than a week, and this agent doesn't even know my first name, let alone my last name? Honestly, I don't know if I should be angry, or if I should allow the agent a second chance to redeem himself. You know what? Screw this. The evil "special" agents who dump their paperwork on my desk, telling me to file their reports away, can do it themselves. Oh, and the BAU team working on the Blue Ridge Strangler case can have fun trying to find an unsub without help from moi. I think that I'll go back to my computer lair to see how badly my poor government monitors and hard drives need to be updated. But just as I was about to leave the bullpen, the husky voice called out once again.

"Hey Baby Girl,"

I froze in my tracks as memories of "her" violently flooded back. However, the way the agent said 'baby girl' was very alluring. It was like the word was only put on the planet to be spoken by this deliciously chocolate thunder of a behavioral analysist profiler. After forcing the memories to seep back into my subconscious, I turned around to question the FBI agent who was waiting for my response. He looked like a player, a ladies' man, and I was not about to let him win easily.

"Baby Girl?" I quoted.

The familiar looking African American agent looked at me apologetically. "I'm sorry I just don't know-" He started.

I glanced at the agent sympathetically, and a smile began to form on my lips. He may be a player, but he looked so adorable as he attempted to apologize for his mistake. Oh, what the hell, I can't say no to his cute apology… or his gorgeous chocolate melting eyes.

"I've been called worse," I said, interrupting his apology.

When he silently stared back at me, I took advantage of this moment of silence and tried to think of the agent's name. I swear I met him somewhere before, but I just don't know where. All the suits around here look the same. I looked over his shoulder and recognized one of the team members from his small unit- His name was Aaron Hotchner, who Erin Strauss introduced to me as my boss. However, I did not know the name of the other agent, who was dressed like a nerdy college professor- he was rereading some of the case files (I could only guess) to see if there were any more clues that could lead them to the unsub. I quickly turned my attention to the patient agent, who asked for my help on their case.

I smiled. This agent gave me a ticket to freedom, and I was definitely going to take it. "What can I do for you?"

"Can you cross-reference the names of the Blue Ridge Forestry Park Service employees against the list of witnesses interviewed by the Roanoke Police Department?"

"Sugar, consider it already done," I replied.

_Oh, sweet vengeance- you better think twice before you call me 'baby girl' again, you supervisory special agent. _

The agent laughed and flashed his thousand watt smile. "Whatever you say, princess. What is your name, sweet lady?"

I answered his question in a flirtatious matter. If this agent wants to dance, I'll move to the music. "My name is Penelope Garcia, angelfish,"

The agent's eyes lit up, and I stifled a laugh because I imagined a light bulb appeared above his head, as he remembered where he met me before.

"I take it you can't recall my name?" He asked with a mischievous grin.

I racked my brain, trying to connect his face to a name, but came up with nothing. "No…" I finally admitted.

"We met in the elevator the day that you were going to meet Strauss," he hinted.

As I flashed back to the elevator ride to Strauss, I finally was able to place his face.

"You're Derek Morgan! Of course!" I did a mental face palm. How could I forget his name?!

He chuckled. "That would be me, sweetheart. By the way, did you make any progress on cross referencing those lists?" He raised an eyebrow at me.

I smirked. "Well, I would've finished by now, but I got distracted by you sugar,"

"Ouch woman. That hurt," Derek gripped his shoulder and pretended to be insulted by my comment.

I laughed. "Of course it did. Where are the lists that I need to cross reference?"

"They're with the team," Morgan replied.

"That's a BAU team?" I questioned.

"Yup,"

"But there are only three of you," I said.

"Yeah, well at least there is three of us. The kid just joined our team, Hotch transferred into Quantico from Seattle, and I used to be a beat cop for Chicago PD," Morgan explained.

I raised an eyebrow. "Beat cop for Chicago PD?"

He laughed. "That's a story for another time. I'll introduce you to the team and you can run those lists for us. That way we will be one step closer to catching this unsub,"

"Sounds like a plan, mortal," I remarked.

"Excuse me?"

"Honey, you're talking to the oracle, queen of all knowledge and cyberspace," I said.

He shook his head. "Whatever you say silly girl,"

* * *

"Hotch, Reid, this is Penelope Garcia, the technical analyst that Strauss assigned to our unit," said Morgan.

"Actually I-" I started.

"Welcome aboard, Penelope. I'm Aaron Hotchner, unit chief of the BAU. Hopefully we can wrap this case up before any more victims are found,"

As I shook the FBI agent's hand, I noticed that he barely smiled, which probably had to do with the kinds of cases the BAU solved.

"The pleasure is mine sir," I replied.

"My name is Dr. Spencer Reid. I pulled up the website for the Blue Ridge Parkway Service. Did you know that there are 1,718 current employees who work in the park?"

I was startled by Reid's fountain of knowledge, and for some reason, I looked to Morgan for an explanation of Reid's actions.

He just shrugged. "You get used to it,"

I swiftly sat down in front of the computer screen, and stretched my fingers out to crack my knuckles. "Okay boys, let's do this,"

* * *

_**I'm sorry if this is a short chapter! After school lets out, I promise that I'll update more often. Also, please feel free to leave a review, or leave a comment about your thoughts on this chapter. **_

_**-warehouseluver13**_

_**A/N: For those of you who don't know, "her" is a reference to Garcia's past before the BAU; life as 'the Black Queen.'**_


	4. Brian Matloff, Serial Killer

_**Holy crap! I'm back! So so sorry for the wait! Having mono sucks, and so does applying for college! Here's chapter 4 and HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE! Please read, review and enjoy! Also, any mistakes are mine.**_

_**Disclaimer: Do I own Criminal Minds? I wish I did!**_

_**-warehouseluver13**_

* * *

10 minutes later, the profile my team (can I call them that?) came up with barely lowered the list of suspects. I think my opinion of the BAU was too high. At the rate we're going, filing paperwork sounds more appealing to me. (It's that bad.)

"You're going to have to give me more information than that, boy genius," I said.

"That's the profile we came up with Garcia. I don't know what else we can give you," said Spencer.

I took off my stylish glasses and pinched the bridge of my nose before looking back at the list of 15 suspects.

"Oh my Junior G-man. There are 15 suspects and three superheroes on the team. I'll send the list to your PDA's and you guys can break the list up from there,"

"Garcia, you don't even know our numbers," said Spencer.

I rolled my eyes, feeling sympathy for the young genius. "Boy genius, never question the Oracle. Now go find Hotch and Morgan and divide up the list of suspects,"

I turned back to my computer to finish research for my team (I guess I can call them that) when I heard Spencer correct me.

"They're called unsubs Garcia,"

"Last time I checked, they meant the same thing honey," I shouted back.

"Don't call me honey Garcia," Spencer replied.

I smirked to myself in response. "I'll try not to Boy Genius, but no promises,"

* * *

An hour passed before I regrouped with Hotch, Morgan and Spencer at their desks in the bullpen.

"The five men I questioned, they gave me solid alibis and had witness collaborating their story," said Hotch.

"Same goes for me. The men I questioned also had solid alibis," Spencer added.

"Well, you guys might have lucked out, but I think I've found our prime suspect. His name is Brian Matloff. He's worked for the Blue Ridge Parkway Service for five years, which gives him full access to the park and service roads, enabling him to get a clean getaway each time," said Morgan.

"How do you know that he's the killer?" Hotch asked.

"Well, I asked the neighbors surrounding his apartment about his behavior or activities. Some said that he's been acting nervous lately and others have seen Matloff carrying - get this – books of Native American mythology around," Morgan remarked.

"Wait a minute – I think I know why the unsub buries his victims face down," said Spencer.

"Don't hold out on us kid. Tell us what you know," said Morgan.

"Well according to Native American mythology, it was customary to bury the dead face down so the souls of the dead couldn't come back from the dead and haunt their people,"

"Reid, that's good information, but that still doesn't prove that Matloff is the killer," Hotch remarked.

"Come on Hotch, we got this guy hook, line and sinker. Look if it will make you feel better, why don't we head back to the park and show Matloff's face around to see if a victim could place him with Darci Corbett," Morgan argued.

Hotch sighed. "All right, we'll head back to the park to look for witnesses. In the meantime Garcia, dig everything you can up on Brian Matloff – leave no stone unturned,"

Before I had a chance to reply, Hotch, Morgan and Spencer were already heading for the elevators.

After I recovered from my shock from Hotch's order I said aloud, "Sir yes sir," as I started to dig into Matloff's personal history.

* * *

Almost an hour and thirty minutes passed before the team returned with a witness in tow. One thing is for sure, he is nowhere near a star witness. His name is Marvin Leopold – a heroin addict. Yeah, like I said not the best witness, but he provides enough information for Hotch to have a warrant signed for Matloff's arrest. Agents have said that Leopold told Hotch and Morgan that he saw Matloff and Darci Corbett talking the day she disappeared in the park.

"I've got the warrant," Hotch announced.

"Good, because I'm ready to cuff this son of a bitch myself," said Morgan.

"Morgan, you can't land a punch on every single one of our unsubs. Eventually, someone is going to notice, then Strauss is going to notice and maybe even Internal Affairs," said Spencer.

Morgan rolled his eyes. "Cool your jets kid. IA would never notice a punch landing on any suspect. They wouldn't even care anyway. Those sons of bitches always get what's coming to them eventually,"

"SWAT is going to meet us there, so unless you want Matloff to get away while you two argue, I suggest that we get in the SUV as fast as we can," said Hotch.

"Stay safe," I called to my team.

Morgan waved his hand to acknowledge my comment. "We always stay safe Penelope. And we always come home,"

With that, the elevators doors closed, and I closed my eyes to wish my team the best of luck.

* * *

_**So so sorry for this extremely short chapter! However, I have some good news and bad news:**_

_**GOOD NEWS: WE ARE APPROACHING THE FINAL CHAPTER.**_

_**BAD NEWS: WE ARE APPROACHING THE FINAL CHAPTER.**_

_**Anyways, please leave a review below, and thank you for all of your support!**_

_**-warehouseluver13**_


	5. Derek Morgan, Stubborn as Hell

**_Ha! I'm back with a new chapter! (it must be a new record for me!) Anyways, here's the OFFICAL final chapter to Welcome to the BAU Penelope Garcia. Fret not readers, I am writing an epilogue as you read this. It WILL be up later today. Anyways, please read review and enjoy!_**

**_Disclaimer: Do I own Criminal Minds? Unless I'm CBS, (which I'm not) I don't._**

**_-warehouseluver13 _**

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I nervously watched a nearby clock tick by. It was 7:00 pm, which meant that Hotch, Spencer, and Morgan were about to kick in Brian Matloff's door. Time slowly passed by as I tried to will the minute hand on the analog clock to move faster. Just about fifteen minutes passed, when my cell phone began to buzz. It was Spencer.

I quickly answered the call. "Hey my Junior G-man. Did everyone make it out alive?" I questioned.

"Not exactly Garcia," Spencer paused.

"So what happened?" I asked.

"Well, Morgan saw Matloff escape out his apartment window and followed him up onto the roof of the building. Matloff tried to jump to the other nearby roof to evade arrest, but fell short and ended up clinging to the edge of the building for his life,"

"What about Morgan?" I quickly asked.

Spencer sighed. "Morgan leapt over to the roof of the building to try to Matloff from falling, but he was unable to. Right now, Matloff is getting rushed to the hospital in an ambulance - EMTs had to put him in a medically induced coma - and Morgan is getting treated by an EMT for his sprained right ankle," Spencer reported.

"That's terrible! I hope Morgan is heading over to the hospital to get checked out by a doctor," I said.

"Not exactly Garcia. Even now he's fighting the EMT," said Spencer.

"Boy genius, hand my angel fish your phone right now. I'll convince him," I said.

On the other end of the line, I heard Spencer reluctantly hand over his cell to Morgan.

"Hey Baby girl," said a tired Morgan.

"Hello my chocolate god. How's your ankle?" I sweetly asked.

"It's been better Penelope. It just needs a good old fashioned Derek Morgan treatment," said Morgan.

"Listen sugar, I don't know where you got your Ph.D., but last time I checked, Spencer is closer to being a doctor than you are, so you are going to get into that ambulance and ride with the nice EMT to the hospital so you can get checked out by a real doctor," I remarked.

"Baby girl, I hate hospitals," Morgan complained.

"I think you might be in a sticky situation if a sly little hacker you know came along and destroyed your credit score, all because you couldn't even go to the hospital to get checked out by a doctor," I threatened.

"You wouldn't do it," Morgan tried to call me on my bluff.

"No comment," I replied.

"All right, all right! I give in. I'll go," said Morgan.

"Thank you angel fish," I smirked.

"You don't get off that easy Penelope. Once I get checked out, I want you to be here tonight so you can be my ride home when the doctor discharges me," said Morgan.

"I'll bring takeout if you provide a movie," I compromised.

"Sounds like a plan. See you later Baby Girl,"

"Bye my Chocolate thunder," I said.

With that, I hung up with a smile across my face. I just knew this was the start of a beautiful friendship – the kind that lasts forever.

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_**I KNOW! I know its short for the final chapter, but I didn't want to leave you guys hanging again! That would be unjustly cruel of me! Anyways, remember to leave a review and thanks for all your support readers. I COULDN'T HAVE FINISHED THIS WITHOUT YOU.**_

_**-warehouseluver13**_


	6. Epilogue

_**OMG. We're here. This is the official, official end of Welcome to the BAU Penelope Garcia. Please read, review and enjoy. It's been a crazy rollercoaster ride to finish this story. Thanks a million for all your support readers. THIS IS FOR YOU.**_

_**Disclaimer: Still don't own it.**_

_**-warehouse13 **_

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4 Years Later…

Sitting with Spencer Reid and Emily Prentiss in the BAU bullpen is a dream come true. I never imagined that 4 years ago, that small BAU team I worked with would soon grow and house the best profilers of America.

"It's remarkable. Something like this makes you question everything to thought you knew," said Spencer.

"Yeah. It's like Monolith in 2001," I commented.

Today I managed to hack into Emily's old high school yearbook and print out her… interesting senior year portrait. Junior G-man is studying the picture like it's a new specimen, I'm trying my hardest to not burst out in laughter, and Emily is in complete denial that the picture I printed out is actually her senior portrait.

"So there was actually a time when something like this was socially acceptable?" Spencer asked.

"Oh... you're young. 80's left a lot of people confused. This is, uh, especially sad, though," I remarked.

"All right, very funny you guys. Very funny. What did you do to it?" Emily asked.

"Do?" I can't believe that Emily thought I would be so cruel and Photoshop her high school yearbook picture. I'm not that evil.

"Well, you obviously altered it in Photoshop or something. That hair?" Emily questioned.

I tried my best to stifle a laugh. "Oh, no, pussycat. That's all you. Garfield High Class of '89,"

"You really didn't change anything?" Emily thoughtfully asked.

"I hacked it, as is. You're seriously trying to tell me you don't remember rocking that look?" I skeptically asked.

"Perhaps your lack of recognition stems from a dissociative fugue suffered in adolescence, say at a Siouxsie and the Banshees concert?" Spencer commented.

Then, boy genius couldn't help but laugh at the joke he just made. (And the only one who could understand it)

"It's so weird. It's like from some other life," said Emily.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Boss man approaching our small group, and automatically grew serious. If its Boss man and not JJ, we must have stumbled across an important case Boss man must have wanted to brief us on himself. Emily, unfortunately, pulled her professional manner together at the last minute and recovered her grace by asking Boss man a question.

"What was that all about?" Emily inquired.

"Brain Matloff," Hotch replied.

"Who?" Emily asked.

"Uh, aka The Blue Ridge Strangler," Spencer explained.

"Oh, right. That was, like 4 years ago," I added.

"3 victims in the Blue Ridge Parkway," Emily remarked.

"Allegedly. He was never convicted. He slipped into a coma before he could be tried," said Spencer.

"Looks like they're finally going to get their chance. He just woke up," Hotch remarked.

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_**I'm finally done. This story is finally complete, with a satisfying ending I hope. I want to thank each and every reader who followed, favorited or left a review for this story. All of your combined support helped me greatly to write an ending to the untold story of Penelope Garcia.**_

_**P.S. Happy Holidays to one and all! :)**_

_**Peace out!**_

_**-warehouseluver13**_


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